Metamorph Through Metaphorm Poem by Brian Mattern

Lyrical material
like Atlas, it's spiritual.
It's faith that the weight
soon enough will be light.

See how harmony breeds
quick as satellite feeds.
It's the intuitive peace
which no news anchor police
can claim to 'speak on behalf of.'

The endless war on Gaia
fails to penetrate my aura;
no excuse has yet to settle
such deep urge to meddle in
agendas which justify insanity.

Here, Atlas my liege, so proven to be
worthy of strong friends; of relief.